Ali is a 15 year old girl with big dreams and an even bigger ego. When taking a taxi home, she is dropped off and forced to stay at the Gregory House. Will she go insane quickly and painlessly? Or will her imagination by the only thing that keeps her sane

Warning: This fic contains original characters. One is my own oc who is mentioned in this chapter, and others may show up later. The main character, on the other hand, is me with a bit of bad-assery to assure that I can survive a few days. Expect random spazzing on my part. Please enjoy.

I had a bad feeling when it suddenly became darker, and the shadows in the cab made it impossible to read my book, but I dismissed those feelings in favor of my reading. Little did I know my taxi was bringing me straight to Hell.

~Day One~

"Sorry, but I can't drive you any further."

"What?" This is what ultimately tore me away from my book.

"Sorry. Hey, I heard that there is a hotel around here. Walk up the road a bit and use the phone there. I got to go home."

"Fine…fine, thanks." I got out of the taxi and once I closed the door, the guy drove away. After a few minutes of silence on my part, I yelled after him. "Couldn't get away fast enough?" I heard the pitter-patter of rain softly in the background. Great. Rain. Seeing no other way to go but up, up the road that is, I did as the driver told me. A chill ran down my back and goose-bumps formed, while the air got colder. Out of no where a clearing came into view. The closer I got, the louder the rain sounded. The strange thing was, even though I didn't feel any rain, when I looked up, the trees weren't covering much. But that didn't matter. I found shelter.

The rain created a deafening and blinding fog, but this didn't stop the hotel from standing out. The place seemed to glow from the light that was spilling from two medieval looking torches, where as the rest of the building took on a more modern horror house look. I also heard voices, confirming that at least someone was there. I took a second to release the fury of an overly-dramatic sigh before I disrobed myself of my jacket, which wasn't doing any justice in the cold, and shielded my head before making a run for it. I couldn't afford a sick day at school.

The funny thing was that after finally making it to the big double doors, the voices were gone, but that didn't stop me from reaching for the handle and opening the door. It creaked unpleasantly on the old hinges. Looking in, I saw no one and stepping in, I felt as if my footsteps sounded louder than they should have.

"Hello?" My voice echoed back at me, making me feel lonely, until I heard an unsettling voice.

"Hello my dear. You look a little young to be running around all by yourself."

"I-I"

"Oh, You must be cold. Why don't you get settled in your room?"

"M-my room? Thank you for your hospitality, but I just need to use your phone."

"Well, alright my dear, you can use it, but I don't think you will get much use out of it." I ignored him, walking to the fire truck red phone. I dug into my pocket, searching for change from my lunch earlier. I found a shiny corner quarter, deep in the crevices of my jean pocket. I put it in the slot and it shot back at me.

"We don't take small change stupid!"

"AHHH!" I backed away quickly and gripped at the front desk, hyperventilating.

"Congratulations, My Dear. You saw through that old phone's prank before most of the guest suspect a thing."

"You- you knew??? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I told you wouldn't get much use out of it. Maybe you should have listened."

"Listen you rat!-"

"My dear, that is very rude of you to say. Calm down and don't judge people so quickly. You know the saying "don't judge a book by its cover", right?" This mouse was really getting to me. "Maybe a nice rest is what you need. Let me show you to your room." I couldn't fight it anymore. It just wasn't worth it. He took his ring of keys and candle and lead me to a vacant room on the main floor. "My name is Gregory by the way. Yours?"

"Charmed. I'm Ali."

"Well my dear, what a pleasure it is to meet you. Here you go. I made it just yesterday." He opened the door to my room. It was small, but held a lot. A large dresser and desk crowded around one wall while, on the other side, a small bed wedged into the corner, making for optimum walking space. I walked in to observe the bed closer. It certainly looked comfortable and the sheets looked new. Something was weird about it though. Drops of what looked like ink stained a portion of the bed, leading to the floor. Where it dried, scratch marks made streaks on the drops.

"Oh, I'm sorry my dear. Someone must have gotten the resident above you angry, but don't worry, that doesn't happen often." He put down his candle next to the one on the desk and gathered my sheets.

"So they came and scratched the floor?"

"Oh that? No, my dear. Some guests don't respect hotel property. It must have been a chair. I'll be right back." He left me alone in my room to contemplate what happened. The ink looked like it dripped from somewhere, not spilt. Why does it happen when they get angry? And why do those scratch marks look so menacing. When Gregory came back, I was ready with questions. But he beat me to it.

My dear, I'm terribly sorry about that. Here are some new sheets." He proceeded to change my bed. "The person who was here before disappeared two days ago. She had these lovely, well groomed nails. The shade of purple that she used was so lovely. It's sad that she had to go. I think you would have liked her." He took his candle and walked out the door. "Goodnight my dear! He he he." Once he left, I examined the damage on the floor further. I convinced myself I must have been seeing things, and went right to bed soon after, because on the floor, peeking out from under the ink spill was a section of a broken nail with bright purple paint on it.

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